


What Am I To You

by Wireslide



Series: Bossy [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: But it's fleeting, I guess there's some langst, Keith treats his wolf like a person but also like a Pokemon, Lance is far more delicate than he likes to pretend, M/M, Multi, Shiro is the official Old Man of the group
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 10:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16830652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wireslide/pseuds/Wireslide
Summary: Lance overhears Keith being a douche. Shiro tries to fix things.





	What Am I To You

“It’s like saying Shiro actually has feelings for Lance just because they like to flirt in front of the tourists,” Keith’s tone was sharp, and carried down the hall with a razor’s edge, “it’s just as ridiculous. Borf is a sapient individual, the idea of someone putting a collar on him, much less a leash, just because he looks like a dog–”

“No one with any brains is suggesting that you put a collar on Borf, Keith,” Pidge sounded like she’d been listening to this rant for at least an hour, “it was one lady, who is afraid of dogs, and her opinion has no weight here. Or it _wouldn’t,_ if you hadn’t gotten in her face and offered to chain her up while holding a glowing alien knife.”

Lance decided that was as good a cue as any, stepping into the hall and pulling the supply closet door closed behind him. “What’s this about Keith pulling his blade on a tourist? Dude, people are going to think we’re unstable. Did you go Galra-eyed?”

“What? No!” The indigence quickly faded to uncertainty. He looked to Pidge, who was already pulling up the security video on her tablet.

“Looks like you’re in the clear,” she assured.

“Well, there’s that, at least. Ronnie will smooth things out with the lady, probably, but you should get her like, a nice gift basket or something because PR disasters aren’t her job any more.” Lance clapped him on the shoulder, feeling as though his smile was maybe a little too wide. “Borf is perfectly capable of handling assholes on his own. The biggest detriment to his image at this point is your protective instincts. Let him handle his own shit-talk. And on that note, buddy,” he leaned in and down, rolling his eyes up above a grin that he knew made Keith uncomfortable, “literally everything that happens between me and Shiro, feelings or no, is none of your business.” He patted the taller paladin’s shoulder and headed down the hall.

He managed to get around the corner and into a small, empty office before he started shaking. He wedged himself down by the desk, pulling his knees tightly to his chest to force his breathing to slow and keeping his eyes closed to keep from crying too much. _Get it together,_ he thought, _just breathe. Keith doesn’t know jack._ He repeated the last bit to himself emphatically, finally whispering it just to hear it out loud. "Keith doesn't know _jack."_

Shiro’s quiet laugh caught him off guard. “There seem to be a few things that applies to, today.” He crossed the small office and sat on the floor beside Lance, automatically putting his arm around him. He only hesitated when the younger man stiffened. “Lance?”

“What am I to you, Shiro?” Watery blue eyes opened to look at him, and for the first time in years, Shiro felt like his lungs wouldn’t pull in air on their own. He looked away, automatically at his wrist where the stim band this body had never worn would sit.  
He could feel himself shutting down already, echoes of an argument with a love long gone thundering through his brain. Lance deserved an answer, because he had one now as he hadn’t before, so he looked back into that uncertain gaze and smiled. The words were air as they passed through him; speaking them helped him breathe again. “I told you, Lance. You’re the only thing cooler than space. I would rather have another day with you than another flight through the Deltarian belt. The view’s way better.” He brushed Lance’s hair out of his face with his prosthetic, leaning down to press a kiss to Lance’s forehead. “What did Keith say?”

Suddenly reluctant to get Keith in trouble, Lance looked down, leaning against Shiro’s shoulder and pushing back his cuticles with his thumbnail. “He was talking to Pidge and he was using you having feelings for me as a comparison for the ridiculous.” He looked up as Shiro shifted to pull out his phone. “What–” He melted into the sudden kiss, fingers twisting in Shiro’s shirt, jangling his dog tags. The sound covered the whir of the phone’s camera, but not the clatter as Shiro promptly dropped it to pull Lance fully into his lap.

Shiro lost track of trying to make his point with the kiss around the time Lance made a sound in the back of his throat that made him think of things a lot more involved than kissing. He gripped the younger pilot’s knee with his prosthetic and shifted Lance to straddle him, other hand immediately burying in that too-soft hair. He kissed him until the world spun, until his brain refused to offer any memories of other flavors on his tongue, until the only thing he could hear besides the rush of blood in his ears were the muffled moans Lance gasped out against his lips. When he pulled back, the wide-eyed pout the younger man gave him almost drove away the idea of catching his breath.

He swallowed against the urge to let the twist of Lance’s fingers in his shirt pull him back in to happily suffocate, instead reaching down to pick his phone back up. He showed Lance the open camera, pulled up the last photo taken, and couldn’t resist a smug smile when those blue eyes looked away in embarrassment. “What? I think we’re very photogenic, don’t you?” He turned the phone back towards himself and flicked his thumb over it a few times. “I was going to send it to Keith,” he hummed, pursing his lips when Lance’s head snapped back to him, “but he doesn’t get to have pictures of this. Not even to remind him that he has no say in anything between us.” He set the phone back down, and Lance’s phone buzzed. He brushed soft brown hair back and placed a small, chaste kiss at the corner of Lance’s mouth. “Seems like you could use it, though.”

Lance gave him a little smile, leaning forward again to follow his lips, sighing happily through his nose when Shiro obediently kissed him again. Thirty seconds later, he realized the constant buzzing he could hear wasn’t the head rush Shiro’s kisses gave him, but both of their phones in a state of perpetual notifications. He leaned back with a frown and picked up his phone.

Shiro had never seen anyone go from headily flushed to ashen so quickly, and he wasn’t sure it was healthy. “Lance?”

Those dark blue eyes slid up to his face from the phone in sheer horror. “You sent that in a group text.”


End file.
